


A simple choice

by Chatote



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Choice, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Other, s4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 15:12:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8921974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chatote/pseuds/Chatote
Summary: It was simple, really.





	

It was simple, really. Sherlock just had to make a choice. 

He could feel the two men behind him. John, worried and nervous, was on his right. He could sense him in every sens of the term. If he closed his eyes, Sherlock was pretty sure he could see John’s face behind his eyelids. He could feel him think, too. Trying to find an exit. 

Mycroft was on his left. He was probably thinking what an idiot he had been, to let his little brother get involved in a… relationship. Sherlock knew Mycroft wasn’t as tidy as he usually was. That simply was a sign of how bad their situation was. 

None of them were talking. Or maybe they were and Sherlock couldn’t hear them. It didn’t matter, really. 

What idiots they had been…  _Cause you’re an idiot._  Sherlock smiled when he remembered John’s words from their first case. Yes… He was an idiot. An idiot in love. Love, found on the loosing side. 

What a simple word. Love… Four letters, two syllabes. From  the Middle English word  _luf_ , derived from the Old English word  _lufu,_ an akin to Old High German,  _luba_ , and another Old English word, _lēof,_  which means ‘dear’. Nothing more true.

It was as if his senses had been multiplied. He could see the specks of dust flying before his eyes, between him and his reflection. He could hear John and Mycroft breaths behind him. He could smell the fear coming from the three of them. He could feel his heart rushing, threatening to pierce the skin under its impacts. 

He could feel the heavy gun in his right hand. It was simple, really. A choice. Mycroft, his brother. The man without whom England would surely fall. Or John, the man without whom  _Sherlock_  would fall. 

Sherlock knew what is choice had to be. It was a very easy deduction. He could already imagine John’s answer.  _What would be life if you did this, Sherlock? It wouldn’t be worth living!_  Or Mycroft’s.  _Think, little brother. Use your brain. Be logical._ They’d try to stop him.

He took a deep breath. That was for the best. If he was honest with himself, he’d acknowledge that his choice had been made the moment they had entered the room. There was just one thing left to do. Slowly, he rose his head and looked into the mirror. 

He met his own eyes first. He had often wondered if the saying ‘Eyes are the window to the soul’ was true. Right now, his eyes were resolved. Determined. Like him. 

His eyes met Mycroft’s next. His brother deduced instantly what Sherlock was about to do. He had to be quick. Mycroft was already opening his mouth to warn John. 

He met John’s eyes, at last. A thousand words passed between them in half a second. All that they had said and had yet to say. All that had been, was and could be. 

“I love you.“ The words felt right. It had always amazed Sherlock,ever since the first time he had said them, a week ago. He had never imagined him, of all people, would one day say them. 

John’s face lost all it colours when he understood what Sherlock was about to do. He jumped forward, but it was already too late. 

In the end, it was simple, really. A very simple choice. Nothing easier. Sherlock rose the gun to his head. He pulled the trigger.


End file.
